Surely he was imagining this picture. They'll inspect the schooner on the way back," McClintock lied, cheerfully. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. The Dawn Pearl! To be with her constantly, with no diversions to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock for putting this thought in his head—that Ruth loved him! He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands digging into the sand: which was oddly like his problem—he could not grip it. "I'll be back in a minute. ‘Go then. . Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet.
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